


Odd

by Control_Room



Series: Four Armed [1]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Bullying, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Made it to the first hundred! Woo!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Made it to the first hundred! Woo!

It was from the moment Blinkous Galadrigal was born that trolls knew he was different. No, it was not the fact he had four arms, as rare as it truly was (little to no trolls were born with this “mutation”). Nor was it the oddity of his six eyes, everyone in his family had three or more. No, what made Blinkous different was how he was born. As terrible as it may sound, the four armed troll’s father passed away just weeks before his birth, leaving his older soon-to-be brother, Dictatious Maximus, the sole breadwinner of the family. He decided on helping around the library and venders, trying to obtain any gold or silver possible for his kin. When Blinkous was born, six hundred years ago, their mother died in menthivbirth, forcing Dictatious to name his new brother. This was quite a novel situation, and highly unexpected since she was known to be a strong willed and hardy knurlaf, as most were. As Dictatious paced the room with his deceased mother on the bed and small brother in his arms, he stared at the little blue bundle and… all he felt toward him was contempt.

  
“You took away my father,” he growled. The bundle shifted softly in his arms. “You killed my mother.”

  
The baby opened his eyes for the first time, and Dictatious saw the amber brown shade. It hurt him. It would’ve hurt anyone, to see that the one you blamed for your mother’s death had the same color eyes as her. It gave him a burning fuel, one of anger, sadness, and betrayal all smashed into one piece. He resolved then and there that this was no brother of his, and that when morning comes, he’d tell others that neither mother nor child survived.

  
Out of Old TrollMarket, a troll sneaks out under the Brittish bridge. It is quite daytime, exactly noon. Dictatious made sure to calculate this specific time. He wanted to make a clean job of it all. The brown dirt crinked below his footsteps as he headed to the edge of the shadows. A small whimper caught his attention. Frowning, he looked down at his “brother.” The young troll seemed nervous, no doubt scared, thanks to the Troll’s innate nature of knowing what the sun does to nigh all Trolls. He raised the small blue creature into the air, but paused when he heard a sniffle. Warily, he turned his sibling to face him. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the fear and strangely enough, understanding in his eyes.

  
“No.” He said, blunt and unforgiving. “You deserve this. We both clearly know that.”

  
The baby merely stared at him and… oh no. It should be illegal for a child’s eyes to be so dang big and cute. No. The two stared at each other for quite some time, until Dictatious lowered the baby comfortably into his arms.

  
“Fine, you win,” he grumbled. His brother gurgled happily as he trudged back to TrollMarket. “But I get to name you something horrible.”

* * *

  
“Of all names,” he remarked to a very special little mechanism, a sort of vocal diary. “He named me Blinkous. Blinkous! What in TrollMarket? If I were to name someone….”

  
Dictatious laughed quietly to himself as he heard his little brother rant in his room. He had just given the device to him, and after explaining how the blasted thing worked, “Blinky”, as he was nicknamed, shot off like a rocket. As most young trolls go, Blinky was extraordinary talkative, and Dictatious’ poor ears were just about falling off.

  
However, unlike most small rock people, Blinky enjoyed reading far more that athletic challenges of nearly any sort, aside from racing that other bibliophile to the book they both wanted. He was very fast when it came to things like that, and since Dictatious did the math… it made no sense:

  
Blinky + Tiny legs = Slow ≠ Blinky = ????!!!!

  
Along with all that reading (and learning to control his bowels at nine, seven years younger than most), Blinkous was a great (and by great, it does not mean good), conspiracy theorist, often getting into situations much bigger than himself. That tended to become Dictatious’ problem excruciatingly quickly. Many of the rather, firmly opinionated trolls would blame both brothers. Many pepper spray bottles were invested in. Though… it took some time for Blinky to figure out how to point it the correct way. The poor Galadrigals were pushed around quite often (cough cough, all the time), and young Blinkous usually pushed back to the best of his abilities. Which resulted in…

“Get out of the way, wimp,” a tall troll growled at the small Blinky, who was less than a third of the other’s height. “Or else.”  
“Well,” Blinkous replied brazenly, picking up the books he had dropped. “There’s nothing you can do, Marantuk, with Headmaster Vendel right there.”

  
“Vendel’s there, huh?” Marantuk laughed throatily. The tiny troll stepped back, startled. He bumped into another troll behind him. Weasu, one of Marantuk’s buddies. Glancing around with his other eyes, they widened when he saw that he was surrounded by the goons. “Well, lemme tell ya something, Blinkous. I’m here.”

  
“Hey!” Blinky shouted as Weasu yanked his books from his hands, both of the books from all four hands. He jumped as high as he could and only managed to reach the taller troll’s stomach. “Give those back!”

  
“Nah,” Weasu replied, smirking as he turned the books over to read the covers. “Look, he’s got… A Detailed History of Humans, Volume 18 of 83 by Mandy St. Clair, Troll Friend, and… oh. Oh! Oh ho ho!”

  
“What? What is it? What’s so funny?” Marantuk asked, puzzled as to the hilarity of the book. Still bellowing in laughter, Weasu tossed the manuscript to him. Little Blinkous tried to snatch the book from the air, but it was too high for the seventeen year old troll. “Oh? You, you’re reading The Path of Trollhunters by Retaem the Trollhunter? Hah! As if you’d ever be Trollhunter. You and your brother are nothings! Trollhunters usually go by family lines, and then, when there’s no-one left in that kingold, it goes to a new family. I’d be more likely!”

Aye, ‘twas true-- the brutish Marantuk was cousins with the current Trollhunter, and his cousin, Hyrar, had no other relatives. Blinky shrank back and a purple blush spread across his cheeks. He hoped no-one would see the title of that specific book. Ever since his brother told him the tales of heroism and greatness of the Trollhunters of old and new when he was just a little pebble, he became enchanted and enraptured by their awesomeness, and aspired to join their ranks. The bigger trolls dumped the two books on the ground and shoved Blinky to the clay stone floor.

  
As the other’s stalked off, laughing, Blinky lowered his head and closed his eyes. He should've figured out a long time ago, only the true trolls, the strong and brute ones, were good. He was never meant to be a hero.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes hello I'm evil


End file.
